


The Man Behind the Curtain

by Bonfoi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 2016, Bartender!Remus, Community: hp_getlucky, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Romance, author's-pick-me-up, fest fic, sketchy translations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 08:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6463573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonfoi/pseuds/Bonfoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What starts out as Severus' dream about a legend becomes a visit to Lupin's current lair, and a pint full of possibilities.  With a little help from friends, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Behind the Curtain

**Author's Note:**

> for [hp_getlucky’s 2016 Fest](http://hp-getlucky.livejournal.com/) ~ _Prompt 4: The paw of a werewolf is said to be a powerful lucky charm._
> 
> I rewrote my fic after my house burned down on the 21st of March. I needed something less angsty than what I'd first created, and something bright and hopeful, so I present this bit of whimsy to cheer myself and the prompter.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

~~~~~~ 

**The Seed of a Legend Born in Brittany, in the time of the Hogwarts Founders**

 

After his eyes adjusted to the shadows, Godric Gryffindor looked on as his companion and lover, a dark, slight man with a small hump on his back, dropped something green and with three heart-shaped leaves into his gold cauldron. The potion inside sizzled and bubbled violently for a few seconds and then settled back to a rolling boil. "Not stew yet, I take it?" he asked facetiously.

The other man merely grunted in response and stayed focused on his potion. Soon, a muffled string of words became a lilting tune that barely rose above a whisper. After several minutes of this, another ingredient was added—a pinch of some white, iridescent powder—and the strange tune ended on a piercing whistle. Then the softly bubbling mixture was covered by the gold cauldron lid and a timing charm set on the whole thing.

" _Mon Dieu_ , I get older every day." The slight man leaned backward, with both hands in the middle of his back, and stretched, groaning as his muscles flexed in a different direction for what must have been hours. "Soon, milor', you shall see what wonders a finely wrought _Fortuna Potionem_ inspires."

"Salazar Slytherin, you'll never cease to amaze me. Tell me what marvel you are creating now." Godric smiled as Salazar preened under his praise.

"As you comprehend I 'ave a 'and in the werewolves..." his voice trailed off as he slanted an assessing glance at Godric. 

"Sala, by all that holy, we thrashed that out with the help of Rowena's wisdom." He huffed and crossed his arms over his brawny chest. "I and our sister witches forgave you your fit of pique as you have shown true and sincere remorse, so again I say, what marvel shall I behold from your efforts, man!" 

Before Salazar said another word, he stood on his toes and kissed Godric's bearded cheek. "Forgive an old assassin, _Mon Coeur_ , I am still new to the ways of redemption. But, to continue before you growl at me once more..." He patted his golden cauldron with a potion-stained hand and smirked. "I give you _Le Or Patte Élixir du Loup-garou_ , the potion of the Golden Werewolf Paw." He stood beaming at the closed cauldron. "I have blended the good luck and my werewolf potions to create not a cure, for to my shame that cannot ever be, but a way to heal the wolfish man so that he is more an Animagus than a Beast." Salazar looked fully at Godric. "This is a marvel, _eh bien_?

Godric crossed the laboratory in two long strides and swept Salazar up and against his chest with a whoop. "Oh, yes, my Snakish Lion, I call that the marvel of the ages!"

~♣~

**Hogsmeade, the 21st Century**

 

For the past seven months, Severus Snape dreamed about the story his mother had told him as a child, years before he was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He dreamed of a wild coastline, salt air, and gold…the golden hue of _Felix Felicis_ …the rumoured golden blood of the Egyptian gods...the gold of a potions master's most prized and practical symbol of his office...the golden hairs on Lupin's strong forearms...the golden flecks in Remus Lupin's changeable eyes that drew one in...

_No!_

Severus sat straight up in bed, his mouth still open in the shape of an "O" and the echo of the emphatic negative dying around him. He flopped back on his pillows and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Every night...every blessed night..." he muttered.

He crawled out of bed, still tired, and still angry at his unruly subconscious. Just because Lupin of the oh-so-changeable eyes was now free and available and both of them were Order of Merlin, Second Class, recipients did not mean that the man was fair game for either Severus' fantasies or for anything else. "Not going down that road. Nope, not going to be led by dreams and fairy tales..."

The adjustable mirror near the closet woke from its doze with the sound of a clearing throat. " _Harrumph!_ I say, professor, what in the world are you doing wandering around in your nightclothes?" it asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

"Oh, shut it, you silver-backed reflector, can't you see I'm having a nightmarish experience?" Severus grumbled.

"How rude! Just see if I tell you if you've got a shirt tail out of place tomorrow." The mirror flipped itself around in a huff.

Severus ignored the ire of his dressing mirror and began pacing back and forth, bare-footed, his nightshirt partially unbuttoned, and his hair a messy bird's-nest as he kept running his fingers through it. "Why now? My wolfsbane potion is practically perfect. There've been no new reports of werewolves being created for a whole year, so no triggering news on the wireless or in the newspapers..." his words faded away as he stopped in front of a small, old painting. "What say you, Esmeralda? Any werewolf news?" he asked the tiny woman barely rocking before the painted hearth.

The tiny painted woman turned her face away, shrugging into her shawl. "Eh? Sonny, 'tis hours yet afore sunrise. Why do ye bother an ol' woman so?" 

"Esmeralda, you're no more an old grandmother than I am a nubile young thing," Severus scoffed.

The painted woman turned her face toward Severus with a merry laugh, revealing a young face surrounded by masses of hair so dark as to be blue and sparkling green eyes. "Oh, Sevvie, you are a real Prince, aren't you?" she asked with a tinkling laugh. "As to news of my wolfish kin, there's been not one addition in 435 days, a rare treat and a delight. As to other things, did you think to ask yourself why someone sent you the broadsheet with the story about lucky werewolf paws? Perhaps that's the reason I hear you moaning every night, hmm?"

"Like I told the mirror, shut it, you," Severus muttered even as he felt himself flush.

"Then do us a favour and dose your great sleepless self with a potion and get some rest!" Esmeralda said as she turned back toward the banked fire she was contemplating.

~♣~

**Somewhere Else in the Wizarding U.K.**

 

Remus Lupin wiped down the pub's main bar with an Ever-cleaning Barkeep's Wipe, smiling as the ale and other sticky substances disappeared every time he wrung the thing over his pail of cleaning water.

"Oi! I need a drink here!" A hand slapped on the bar top a few times as the customer called out again. "A Bludger and Ale, something dark."

"Coming, coming." Remus looked for a shot glass for the firewhisky that would be messily dropped into a pint of ale and smiled when he found the perfect one, not too big, not quite a shot glass but something that will slide smoothly to rest on the pint's bottom. "All right, identification, please," he said, turning toward the demanding customer with the perfect shot glass in his hand.

"Well, I'd think you know how old I am, Remus," Harry Potter said with a laugh. 

Remus set down the shot glass and shook his hand with a grin. "Harry! What brings you here? This is the back of beyond, so to speak." He drew a golden lemony ale the pub was famous for and slid the pint across the bar to Harry's hand and then poured a shot of something dark and carried it toward Harry's seat.

Harry caught the ale as if it were a Golden Snitch and took a sniff. Then he took a cautious sip that turned into two and left him with a foamy moustache. He wiped half-heartedly at the foam as he spoke. "You sent Minerva an owl-post. She sent me a Floo Call. Draco booted me out of bed and here I am." He eyed the shot glass.

"Why? Nothing's going on. Teddy's doing fine with his real father, and Tonks, well, she's very happy to finally have her family around her. I was glad to help, Harry." After setting the shot glass down next to Harry's left hand, Remus scrubbed the bar top a bit harder, avoiding Harry's perceptive eyes.

"You're a known werewolf working at a pub called _The Gold Paw_ , infamous for its bawdy Friday night entertainments, and it seems, and you've been spotted participating." Harry sipped at his lemony ale with a sly smile.

"Wha!?" Remus' cheeks reddened. "I just serve ale and beer and whatever's on draft, Harry."

"Oh, is that what they call it these days?" Harry reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. "This showed up on Minerva's desk a week ago or so."

Remus looked around the pub before carefully sliding the envelope close enough to slip it over the edge of the bar and open it out of sight of any curious eyes. He opened the unsealed flap and took out two wizarding photographs: in one, Remus was shimmying against the chest of dark-haired, thin-faced man, and, in the other, Remus was whirling around a pole with one leg bent around it and the other straight out. In both pictures, it was obvious that Remus wasn't wearing much at all.

"Not that you don't look, ah, athletic, but the thing that caught Minerva's eye—at least I'm hoping it was that—was how your scars look." He looked at Remus over the edge of his pint as he took another sip. He licked his lips, removing all the foam this time. "You're looking a bit ragged, Remus."

Remus shrugged. "It's a sign of age, Harry. All werewolves will get more scarred over time, and for those of us who made it through the war, well..." His voice trailed off and he stared into a distance only he could gauge. "Time doesn't heal all wounds for a werewolf, Harry. We're bound with chains of unluckiness and that wears on our very souls."

~♣~

Severus Snape huddled under a cloak he'd snatched from the Hogwarts professors' lounge. He'd known Potter was up to something and his gut instinct told him that following the heroic do-gooder would lead him right to the very thing that was prickling at his skin and making him think strange things and dream of...

Remus Lupin, bartender, was still fit if a bit frayed at his edges. His hair was no longer brownish blond, his shoulders weren't as broad as a few years before, but still...still something about him drew Severus' eyes and his heart—which he wished would just _stop_ beating so strongly at this latest sight of Lupin's lean forearm muscles—and made him do mad, impetuous things like following Potter across the breadth of Scotland. 

Severus took a deep breath and sidled around the edges of the Gold Paw, trying to slide into the shadows. He thought he'd failed when Lupin's head slowly turned and he surveyed the room with narrowed eyes. Severus didn't dare breathe again as long as the lycanthrope's sharp gaze was moving over each patron. When he felt as if his lungs would burst, Severus got a reprieve as Potter opened his mouth again and slid something across the bar toward Lupin.

Watching the two wizards at the bar, Severus wondered when he'd become the sulking teenager and Lupin his heart's desire...and Potter something of a facilitator, if Severus truly thought about it. " _No matter,_ Severus thought to himself, " _I've got nothing to lose since I've already come here without a plan. I should just accept the inevitable and..._ "

A golden hand grasped Severus' shoulder through his cloak and he barely suppressed an unmanly squeak at the sudden pressure. He turned his head and looked directly into Lupin's blue-gold hazel eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but the other man beat him to it.

~♣~

"Why are you skulking about in the shadows, Severus? Didn't you have enough of that during the war?" Remus asked as he drew Severus toward the bar, and a curious Harry Potter.

Severus shook off Lupin's hand with as much dignity as he could muster and made a show of straightening his cloak as he settled himself on a bar stool. "I am a cautious man, Lupin. That is the habit of a lifetime and I'm loath to let it go so blithely." The prissy words had him pinching his lips tight lest any more slip past his teeth without permission.

Harry laughed and sipped at his lemony ale. "Since you knew what I wanted better than I did, why don't you draw something for Snape, Remus?" He tipped his pint slightly toward Severus. "I'll bet he's a Guinness man, regular stout."

Remus took long look up and down at Severus and then turned away with a small smile on his lips. He went down his row of tap handles and turning slightly so the other men couldn't see what he was doing, he pulled a pint of something dark, so dark that light didn't seem to penetrate it. Then, he overlaid a pale golden liquid over it, giving the pint a halo of sorts. Then, Remus carefully brought it to Severus and set it down before the man.

"This is called Redemption, Severus. Please try it. I think you of all people will appreciate the subtle flavours and the complementary notes of the ingredients." Remus looked on as Severus cautiously grasped the pint and lifted it to his lips.

"Nothing poisonous, I take it?" Severus asked facetiously. Remus just smiled. Severus took a sip, noting the lemony aftertaste of the top layer, the halo, but then his face screwed up in concentration when a hint of elderberry honey and chamomile bloomed on his tongue. He took a deeper draught and held the mixture in his mouth for a moment, cataloguing still more layers of richness, of smoky peat and aged oak, of juniper berries and lush green lemon grass... "Definitely nothing poisonous," he finally got out after unknowingly downing half his pint.

"Lucky for you I have a knack, a gift as it were, of pouring just what the customer needs," Remus said with a laugh as he turned back to cleaning the bar.

~♣~

Severus sat with his pint in his hand, the finish of the drink filling him with ephemeral, smoky courage. "Luck has nothing to do with it, but if you insist, I shall allow you to believe so." As far as flirting lines go, it wasn't the best ever said, but the fact that it drew Lupin's attention back to where it so rightly belonged was all that mattered. 

He took another sip, letting the fusion of hops, flowers, and grasses caress his tongue as he swallowed. "In fact, I dare say that this establishment would only benefit from a werewolf such as you."

Lupin's eyes narrowed. "How so, Severus?" he asked huskily.

Severus smirked. "You have one of the most refined olfactory senses I've ever witnessed, in or out of fur, and you have a pleasing demeanour and physique. Add that to a fine intellect and you are the perfect purveyor of spirits and such." Severus held his pint up in a toast.

Potter chuckled at his side and Severus glared at the imp. He'd forgotten he had an audience.

"I think I can leave you Severus' good hands, Remus. I'll let Draco and Minerva know how well you're doing." Potter grinned as he slid off his bar stool and laid a Galleon on the worn surface. "We'll expect you and Severus for dinner on Sunday." He stepped away and then turned back to the two of them. "Oh, and Remus, I think you might want to put less Felix Felicis in your lemon ales. I don't think Severus will want you getting lucky with anyone but him these days." With that parting shot, the messy-haired scamp walked away and out of the Gold Paw.

~♣~

Remus pulled Harry's empty pint and shot glass toward his side rail as he cast an assessing eye over Severus. He grinned to himself as he watched Severus' dark eyes flickering over his own features and then down what could be seen of his body. 

Leaned forward so his could ask his questions softly, Remus whispered, "Was Harry correct, Severus? Would you like to be lucky for just one night or for as many nights as we can fit into the rest of our lives?"

Severus pondered the idea of grasping what was being offered, of snatching a bit of happiness that wasn't rotten from the get-go, of just being with someone who seemed to light up when they looked upon him. He tipped the pint up and drained it in one long swallow that he knew showed off his long throat to advantage. Then he smirked as he pulled the glass away. "Lupin, for once I will cast myself upon the lap of Fortune and allow her to shove me aside wherever she may wish." Not eloquent, but it got the message across as Lupin reached for Severus' pint glass.

"I'll see what I can do, Severus. And, if you think of leaving, this time I will follow you wherever you may go until you are mine. Are we clear?" There was a hard note in Lupin's voice...in Remus' voice that sent a ripple of something that _definitely_ wasn't fear through Severus' frame.

"Remus, if I may call you that, I have nowhere better to be than right here." There, those were the perfect words to use as Remus' eyes glinted like newly minted Galleons and Severus felt his temperature rise in response.

"Good," Remus said with his own smirk. "It's time and passed that we use what luck we have, together."

"Pour me another and I'll drink to that, Remus. Yes, I do believe I most definitely will," Severus said softly as he reached across the bar toward Remus.

~♣~

Harry Potter sat on the floor of the home he shared with his lover and best friend, Draco Malfoy. He turned a small vial of golden liquid in his hands as Draco hummed something classical under his breath. 

"Draco, I don't know how you did it, but when I left, Snape was eyeing up Remus like he was this week's prime cut."

Draco's humming came to a stop as he leaned forward and dragged Harry into his arms. "That's because you don't need any luck these days. Just a few words in the correct house-elf ears and Severus' tea was enhanced with one drop of Felix Felicis for a week. I knew he fancied Lupin, and you knew Lupin fancied him, so it was only natural that Severus' good luck would latch onto you when I needed it to." He kissed Harry's nose.

"True, I don't need the luck, but what will happen when those two realize your lemony ale is made with the Good Luck Potion? We'll be dead men before we're a month older."

Draco chuckled. "No, dear heart, I think we'll be invited to a small wedding in a forest glade with only a few others to see those two finally bound together. And if we don't, I'll dunk them in the damned stuff until that happens!"

_~~~ En Fin ~~~_

**Author's Note:**

> Reference
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Any translation mistakes, I must point at Google Translate:
> 
> _Fortuna Potionem_ , the Good Fortune Potion
> 
> _Le Or Patte Élixir du Loup-garou_ , the potion of the Golden Werewolf Paw


End file.
